Vacant Eyes & Butterflies(Frerard)

Chapter 6- Paranoia

A/N: I'm so sorry I couldn't wait to post this, I got too excited! Although this isn't thaaat great of a chapter, as I have mentioned before, I do have bigger things coming with this story and I apologize how shitty this is after two years of being gone. I just hope this is good enough for now until I release chapter seven.

Chapter 6
Paranoia

I didn't want to get involved with...whatever the hell was going on with my neighbors because, well one, it was none of my business. Two, if I left my house to check things out then that would mean Gerard would only make an ass of himself and I outside in public. Plus, without even really knowing him, I just knew that fucker would continue to throw the charade around that him and I were a thing... which totally was not true. Gross.

Of course, me being the curious bastard that I was, I somehow managed to push Gerard right out of my door way while still staying inside, poking my head out ever so slightly to see where the screaming was coming from.

And there, right in my very own driveway was a whole crowd of people around Jamia's mother's car....with well, Jamia's mother inside.

Presumably, Jamia's mother was driving Jamia to my house while on her way to work, except something happened between the time that Jamia left her mother's car, to the moment that my neighbours were shrieking.

Jamia's mother's body was slumped over in the driver's seat; head resting sluggishly on the now stained crimson steering wheel. Blood was pooling from her head, (or her neck? I honestly couldn't tell) and out her slack blood-stained jaw and onto the rest of her and whatever the fuck else was around her.

But... how did this happen so quickly without either of us hearing her screams outside from my house? She had to have screamed, or at least fought for her life; her fucking teenage daughter was a mere few feet away for fucks sake. This couldn't have happened. I didn't think that I loved Jamia anymore, but maybe I did now, or maybe that was just pure guilt because I was a fucking terrible boyfriend and now ...fuck, her mom was fucking...obliterated. What was I even supposed to do?

It didn't take long for Jamia to stand up from my porch where she had been soundlessly observing everything unfold right before her; the crowd, the ambulance and all the cop cars. She no longer had a mother, or a boyfriend. Maybe I could change that. Maybe I could put all this Gerard and Mikey bullshit behind, and just focus on mine and Jamia's relationship again. After this, she would need someone, and it would only make the most sense if that someone was me, considering her mother's corpse was in my drive way.

I had only been to a crime scene twice; this being my second time, Mikey's death my first. And I wasn't stupid, and I don't think Gerard was either. Did Gerard kill Jamia's mom? Did he know that I killed Mikey? And if he did kill her mother then was this his way at getting back at me? On the other hand, if Gerard did know what happened that night between Mikey and I, I don't think that he would pick someone as random as my ex-girlfriend's mother to kill. Besides, Gerard didn't even look like the killing-kind. Perhaps I was just being paranoid. I was being paranoid. Everything was okay, except... it wasn't.

Soon enough the crowd slightly diminished and there was only a handful of people left who actually stuck around; answering any questions the police had for them. Oddly enough, Gerard, Jamia or I didn't exactly get interrogated by the police, only because they had felt sympathy for Jamia losing her mother and I'm sure they didn't want to freak her out anymore that day with any insensitive questions they might've had for any of us. I didn't doubt that they would be back though.

Surely enough Jamia got a ride home from one of the Policemen, I think his name was Rick? Or something like that. On any other circumstance I honestly don't think I would pay attention to something so irrelevant, but the guy was complimenting my Iron Maiden shirt, and we had a really in depth conversation about whether or not Paul Di'Anno was a better vocalist than Bruce Dickinson, Obviously I chose Dickinson because why the fuck not.